


Taking the Risk

by flootzavut



Series: Callian stories [3]
Category: Lie to Me (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s02e10 Tractor Man, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Season/Series 02, Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:36:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5320685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/pseuds/flootzavut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Tractor Man, things come to a head between Cal and Gillian as they finally take the risk they've been avoiding for years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking the Risk

**Author's Note:**

> Absolutely shameless smutlet, set after the events of Tractor Man.

* * *

_**Taking the Risk** _

* * *

 

She shouldn't be surprised at Cal appearing in her office, eyes dark and searching, but she is. She swallows hard. Watching him go down to face a potential bomb - even if they were almost entirely empirically sure it was a fake - made her stomach roil with desperate worry, and she's horribly aware he could've died today, and she would've had so many regrets.

She's tired of regrets.

She's been pacing, trying to figure out what exactly she wants to do about those potential regrets. She didn't expect Cal to force her hand. But he has. And now they're gazing at one another from just a foot or so away, and if she were an impartial observer here, she'd have to conclude there was more than friendly concern going on - if she even believed the parties involved weren't already intimate.

As a decidedly partial participant, she's fully aware there's something else going on, even though she also knows they've never crossed  _that_  line.

Not yet.

A minute or so of silence feels much longer when he's staring at her this way. She's both nervous and relieved when he finally starts to speak.

"Would you agree, Foster-" He pauses, looking at her speculatively. "Would you agree we dodged a bullet today?"

"Well, a bomb, yes."

He moves in a little closer, his eyes intent. "That teacher. She took a risk because she was reminded life is short, right?"

She nods. What's happening here is crystal clear, and Cal's expression is making her even more nervous. Nervous in a way she recognises, with the detached observation of the clinician, as being maybe 90% excitement. "Yes."

"Because we all know kissing Loker is a bloody big risk, you don't know where he's been." Despite his flippancy, his voice is lower and rougher than normal, rough like the stubble on his cheeks and just as enticing.

She nods again. Okay, maybe 95% excitement. And 4% lust.

And 1% pure panic because her best friend and the man she loves and her business partner are all the same person and she has no idea if it's possible to add still more to that relationship without it crumbling under the weight of expectation.

The man who kisses her. The man who makes love to her. The man who shares her bed... her life. He wants to be all those things and more, has wanted it since long, long before her divorce. Has wanted, for years, for them to be with each other.

And if she's honest with herself, so has she. For such a long time.

He's close enough now she can feel his breath on her mouth, close enough to drown in how he's looking at her.

"D'you feel like taking a risk, Foster?" He says it slow and deliberate, not allowing any room for misunderstanding. They both know what he's really asking, what he's really saying, the choice he's making to be honest and the choice he's giving her to say yes,  _at last_ , to rock the boat and smash the status quo and trample their carefully curated line into dust.

His heated gaze takes in her face and then flicks down to her throat, and she knows, she  _knows_ , he's seeing all the subtle and not so subtle signs of arousal, that he can't help himself and she doesn't want him to.

She manages to nod, once more. Cal's smile widens, and his hands land on her hips a second before his lips land on hers.

Her mouth opens without conscious thought, an invitation he readily takes, and her fingers close around the back of his head and curl into his hair, a plea, a  _demand_ , to not stop.

There was always a chance they'd take this risk (because it was always going to happen, sooner or later, somehow or other - she's  _always_  known that, and so has he) and discover they'd bet on the wrong horse, should've stayed friends and nothing more.

It's part of what's stopped her for so long. She's sure it's what's held him back, when he's usually one to jump in full bodied and feckless. There was a chance it'd turn out not to be worth it.

She's glad they bet the house. It's definitely worth it.

When they surface, his pupils are dilated and he's breathing hard and he looks, she notices, like his mind is blown.

She feels quite smug about that.

"Blimey."

She raises her eyebrows.

"Bloody well worth waiting for, Gillian."

She smiles archly. "Glad to hear it."

She's baiting him, and his grin says he's absolutely up for a good old-fashioned sparring match ending in messy sex.

"How 'bout you, you think it was worth waiting for eh, darling?"

Given even she can tell just from feel that her cheeks are flushed, and her heart is beating so hard he can probably see her pulse flicker in her throat, it's a question begging for reciprocal flippancy.

"Hmmm. Haven't decided yet."

His growl is rather undermined by the way he launches himself at her mouth first, crotch following quickly behind, with a grin toothy enough to scare Jaws, and kisses her even harder and more thoroughly than the first time. He backs her slowly into her desk, grinds against her, and then he's boosting her up onto it and his look when he draws back from her mouth is hungry, almost... feral.

"Always wanted to make you scream, Foster." She's not sure she's ever heard Cal's voice sound quite this way. She likes it. A lot. "Always wanted to push you up on this desk and taste you."

Her jaw drops as she realises what he's saying, but she doesn't protest. His hands move slowly down her sides, over her hips, down her thighs, and his grin widens when she doesn't stop him, when she just maintains eye contact and lets him slide his fingers down to bare skin and then up again, pushing her dress upward.

"All right?" he asks with a leer she'd usually greet with a clip round the ear, but which today just makes her smile slowly back and quite deliberately suck her bottom lip into her mouth, then slick her tongue over it before releasing it. She can practically see the neurons firing and his arousal rising as he watches her. "I'll take that as a yes then, love," he says.

He leans in to kiss her again, his hands on her naked thighs, and then he's kneeling slowly down in front of her, shaking his head and grinning again, obviously both surprised and pleased by her very willing cooperation. He pushes her legs apart, her dress riding up still further, then shoots another look up at her, one which promises all kinds of deliciousness, before he leans in to press his face into her panties. She can feel him take a deep breath in, as if he's absolutely  _savouring_  the scent of her, and then she gasps, because he lets it out in a low, rumbling groan, vibrating into her, and she's suddenly just a cluster of nerve endings wrapped in willing heat.  _Gosh_. She's really in trouble. It's  _wonderful_.

He nuzzles her through her underwear, then she can feel his tongue, and she wonders if he can taste her yet. He licks up and down, and she shudders, and if he couldn't already, he'll be able to soon, because she could swear she's actually dripping. "Oh, God." She feels his chuckle.  _Oops_. Yeah, that's a comment she'll probably never live down. On the whole, right now, she can't bring herself to care.

His fingers hook into the sides of her panties, and when she glances down he's shooting a questioning look up at her. "God, yes," she manages to gasp, before flopping back onto her desk, her muscles apparently giving up on the task of keeping her upright.

She never expected Cal to be such a gentleman, particularly when she's so turned on any random person on the street would be able to tell she was gagging for it, never mind someone who's spent his entire adult life learning to reading emotions and knows her inside out.

He doesn't need telling twice, quickly disposing of the damp cotton and spreading her thighs wide, and her back arches as he licks a long, slow line up the centre of her pussy, no prep, no time to think, just his tongue sliding deliciously upward, the slight roughness of stubble on his chin, a teasingly light tickle of her clit. Then his mouth and lips are closing over her, and she can feel him smile at her reaction, the way she winds her fingers into his hair, the way she pushes up into his mouth, the way she's wriggling and shaking already. He hooks her legs over his shoulders, caresses her thighs and her ass, and oh, it's been way too long since she got good head from anybody. She bites her tongue to stop herself begging him for faster, harder, more.

It doesn't surprise her to discover he's good at this. It's a pleasant surprise to discover just  _how_  good. It's leaving her puddled in his mouth, dissolving into a mess of enjoyment and compliance. She'd do anything, agree to  _anything_  right now.

There's a small, logical part of her brain which is downright worried by this notion, considers it a decidedly dangerous discovery - it's pretty much guaranteed Cal would use it to her disadvantage if he realised exactly how far she would go to make sure he doesn't stop - but mostly she's simply melting and groaning and rubbing against his face.

He's wanted to do this forever. She may have been a novice at reading micro-expressions when they met, but she was more than capable of seeing the appreciation of her face and body, the growing affection as they spent more time together, the barely concealed hunger and desire which started so quickly and has been his default look for years now whenever he's got his eyes on her. The way he swallows when she uncrosses and recrosses her legs  _just so_ , and he can hardly stop himself from trying to get a peek up her skirt. The unfiltered adoration he turns on her when he's been particularly difficult and she's rolled her eyes and forgiven him. For so many reasons, he's wanted to do this and she's known he wanted to, and they've both held off.

She's imagined it, got herself off to it many more times than she'll ever admit, but she hadn't credited him with this level of skill. And she hadn't really realised exactly  _how much_  he wanted it, till she felt his hands and mouth on her. Every touch is so full of the emotions they've been denying for years, and it's overwhelming.

His enthusiasm and enjoyment is  _doing_  things to her. He's licking deep into her like he doesn't want to miss an inch, to miss out on any sensation or taste, no matter how small or insignificant, and then his tongue is zigzagging closer and closer to her clit before diving back into her again. His mouth is soft and his chin is rough, and he's a tease, in the best possible way, and it's drawing up deep moans, of a kind she'd forgotten she could even make.

 _God_ , it's like she's a gourmet meal, and he's savouring her. She twists her hand tighter into his hair, the other gripping the edge of the table, and she'd promised herself she wasn't going to beg but she can't help it.

"Please, Cal, I- God,  _please_."

She can feel him laugh, and it's another moment she'll never live down, but although she can't keep herself from begging, she promises herself she'll make him beg twice as hard later.

At least he's taken the hint, and his mouth moves slowly but surely up toward her clit, and this time he doesn't stop short but wraps his lips around it, and moans, as if he's enjoying this as much as she is. The combination of his tongue and his obvious pleasure is making her mind go fuzzy. She hooks her ankles together, involuntarily squeezing his head between her legs, and the last coherent thought she has before her body gives in is that he's going to tease her about this  _forever_.

Her back arches as he sucks and his fingers dig into her ass, and finally she shudders and breaks and cries out as she comes, dissolving into emotion and sensation and mindless pleasure.

He keeps going until she pushes him away, and all she can do is lie there. She even can't bring herself to care how he's laughing happily against her thighs. Slowly he shrugs her legs off, and it takes until he's actually standing over her, hands on his hips and a shit-eating grin on his face, for her breathing and heart rate to return to something approaching normal.

She can't seem to gather her wits to sit up, but he just leans over her to find her mouth and lay a deep, tender kiss on her lips. She can taste her own flavour on his tongue, sucks it off with relish, enjoying his noise of surprise and arousal at her enthusiasm.

With him angled over her body this way, she can feel how turned on he is, his erection hard in his pants, pushed up against her, and she'll soak through his clothing, too, if they stay this way for long. She hooks a leg around his thigh to keep him close, and he chuckles into her mouth.

"You're delicious, Foster," he tells her when they float to the surface. "Wanted to do that for so long, and it was  _so_  good."

"'S all right for me, too." Her teasing, her damning with faint praise, would be more effective if she didn't sound like she'd been drinking tequila. A lot of tequila. Her voice is as hazy as her head.

He just laughs, sounding delighted. "Gonna take you home and do it all again, all right, darling?" He gives her a knowing look. Like she's even  _capable_  of protesting right now.

"'Kay." She blinks. "Home?"

He nods, and his grin is still cocky as fuck, but his eyes are all warmth and tenderness. "Want you in my bed, Gillian."

The low, promising tone of his voice makes something inside her go 'ping', makes her quiver even more than his tongue already has, makes her melty and mushy in a way she hasn't felt for a very long while. "'Kay."

He stands up, tugs her dress down so she's actually decent again, then grabs her hands to pull her upright.

He is both smug and delighted, and she can't even tell him off for it. She's pretty sure he deserves, for once, to feel both.

This time she's the one who initiates the kiss, and makes sure it's a good one, one that leaves him looking starry eyed and wobbly kneed.

He clears his throat and gives himself a shake, obviously trying not to appear taken aback. And failing, for which she could almost give herself a high five. She giggles. She can practically  _watch_  him deliberately pulling himself together, gathering the pieces of his brain so he can think straight.

Well. Straight ish.

He takes a deep, steadying breath, cocks his head, produces her panties from his pocket, and smirks mischievously. She's actually impressed how well he's recovered. "So, I s'pose you'll be wanting these back, then?" He waggles his eyebrows. "What'll you give me for not making you walk out of here commando, eh?"

Well, in for a penny. She arches an eyebrow right back at him. "Oh, you can keep those."

She hears the sharp intake of breath as she brushes past him, and doesn't need to look back to know he's goggling at her. She grins. Leaving Cal Lightman speechless? It  _never_  gets old. And now they're going to go home and shake the walls. Today turned out a lot better than expected. Some risks are definitely more rewarding than others.

She glances back over her shoulder. "You coming?"

Yep. A  _lot_  better. And it's not even over yet.

_~ fin ~_


End file.
